“These past couple of weeks have been kinda like a dream to me.” Peg ruffled Clark’s hair on the way to the cupboard for a coffee cup. “It’s all so new – like a beautiful strange planet. Maybe not quite as hot as Mars, but close.”
Clark typed at his computer, “Uh huh.”
Peg poured herself a cup of coffee. “The sunset was amazing last night. I didn’t realize it’s the clouds that make it spectacular.”
“Mmmm. Right.”
“And the fish taco at the pier? Absolutely delicious, best I’ve ever tasted – so fresh and flaky. I’d go back there every night.” She blew on the steam rising from her cup.
Clark looked up from the screen, “I have to go to Cuba.”
“Cuba? Why?” Peg choked on her sip of coffee.
“A company has asked me to consult for a start-up. Things are opening up with the US.”
“Cuba?”
“I know. It’s an amazing opportunity.”
Peg made a face.
Clark was undeterred. “We discussed that I’d be doing some consulting.”
“I didn’t think you’d have to start working so soon. And, I thought your work would be from the house, not from Cuba.” The caffeine and humidity produced tiny water beads on her upper lip.
“This company needs my help setting up their communications. We Americans take cell phones and the Internet for granted, but Cubans have very limited accessibility. Gonna be groundbreaking work – helping millions of underprivileged people. This is a chance for me to do something on a global level. I need to go there to assess the resources already in place.”
“Tough to argue when you use words like Americans and underprivileged and global.” Peg wrinkled her brow. “It seems so soon for you to leave, when we just got here.” She plopped her elbows on the counter and cupped her cheeks in her hands. “You don’t even speak Spanish. Are you the right person to set up communications when you can’t communicate?”
“I’ve been working with a translator. She’s been instrumental in organizing the work.” Clark avoided Peg’s eyes. He stood up and talked over his shoulder as he walked into the bedroom. “Listen, it’s only 90 miles away – closer than the nearest Target.”
“How long will you be gone?” Peg shouted, not realizing he had come back into the room.
Clark grimaced at her yelling. “No more than a week or so – be back before you know it.” He patted her on the back. “Hey, where’s my swimsuit?”
Peg wished she could be happier about his selfless charity.
“Hello? Swimsuit?” Clark interrupted her thoughts.
“Oh… uh… swimsuit? I think it’s in the closet with the towels and hacksaw. No not that one, that’s the coat and dog food closet.”
“Ah, that makes perfect sense.” Clark nodded his head in an exaggerated up and down motion.
Peg jumped back as a bright green gecko slithered down the inside of the closet door. “Yick, I’ll never get used to those things… creepy and crawly.” She pranced in a circle, waving her hands.
“They’re three inches long. What’re they going to do to you?”
Nipper took notice and began a slow army crawl toward the creature, counting on the element of surprise.
“Heart attack… they give me the willies.”
“Hey, we don’t need these coats anymore. You’d have extra space if you got rid of them.” Clark tossed the heavy outerwear onto the floor on top of the already growing pile of former closet occupants as he continued his search.
“It is possible that I’ll go to back to Chicago sometime, you know.” Peg swallowed the tiny lump in her throat.
“Ah ha. Here it is.” He tugged out a bright floral suit from under a pile of towels. The towel tower tumbled off the shelf. “Right, of course, but not in the winter. How could you leave this?” Clark pointed to the blue sky and green palm fronds showing through the picture window.
“It is beautiful,” she admitted, then glanced down at the floor. She squatted to pick up the pen that had fallen out of a coat pocket. Holding it up, she inspected the side. “The company logo… I remember when I had these made.” She gathered the towels to stack them back where they belonged.
“I leave on Friday at eleven in the morning. Direct from Key West, 35-minute flight.”
“Friday? Like… this Friday? Two days from now Friday?” Peg ceased folding straight-edge creases in a towel on the floor.
“Peg, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be gone a week.”
“I thought you’d be working from home for any consulting once we moved here.”
“They want to know the on-site feasibility of the project. Needs to be decided as soon as possible.”
Peg brightened. “Why don’t I come too? I am the financial expert. I could make sure the project stays on budget.”
“No budget yet. No real company. It’s just a consult.”
Peg lowered her eyelids.
He leaned down and lifted her chin. “Nipper will keep you company and I’ll be back in a week.”
Hearing his name, the dog looked over at them, allowing the trapped lizard a welcome escape.
Lucky lizard.
Peg watched as Clark stripped naked in the middle of the kitchen and put on his swimsuit.
How can men do that? They don’t even care who sees them? Wow, he does have a great butt.
“Here, take the new beach towel. It’s bigger.” She tossed it across the floor in Clark’s direction.
Clark’s eyes met Peg’s. He sucked in his stomach while patting the middle-aged layers. “I’m working on getting rid of this. Wanna go for a swim in the ocean with me?” He grabbed his goggles out of the beach bag.
“Okay,” she said, forcing her brain to stop calculating how many hours until 11am on Friday. “I’ll get the leash and bring Nipper too.”
“How great is this that we can walk to the ocean for a swim?” Clark exuded happiness.
“So great,” Peg replied with fabricated eagerness. “Come on, Nipper, let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to wear your suit?” Clark slathered on the sunscreen. “It’s the beach.”
“Right, I guess so.”
The leashed dog followed Peg around the room as she located her new suit hanging next to the yard rake in the vacuum-cleaner closet. Nipper nudged his nose into the door to enter the bathroom with her. “Sorry, Nip. Not enough room for both of us in here.” Peg shut the door. The dog plopped down with a loud thud.
Not wanting even the mirror to see her naked, she moved away from its judging eye. She shimmied the triple-ruched, ultra-slimming suit up her thighs with exaggerated hip swirls, but the stubborn one-piece bunched at her waist and refused to go any higher.
What is happening? This fit when I tried it on in the store.
Her sticky skin fought the spandex. She attempted to find the top part of the suit.
Is this suit made of double-sided tape? Is it on backward?
Seeing what looked like a strap, she hunkered down and yanked it up over her right arm. One breast encased in a swimsuit knot and the other dangling homeless, Peg forced herself upright, only to produce the most perfect and fantastic of wedgies. Sweat trickled…
“What are you doing in there?” Clark called out from the back door. “I’m ready to go.”
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Peg tried not to sound out of breath.
“You bring the dog so I can start to swim.”
“Fine. Just go.” The bathroom walls closed in on her as she realized she had pulled the left strap over the right arm. No matter how hard she heaved, yanked or contorted, the spider web of a bathing suit held fast.
I think I’m going to have to cut this thing off. No you are NOT. That is a one-hundred-dollar Nordstrom bathing suit. You are NOT going to cut it off.
The dog barked in concern when he heard the scuffle coming from inside the bathroom.
“I’m coming, Nipper. Don’t worry. No need for both of us to be worried.”
Deep breath. You can do this.
In order to remove the possibility of a vertical bisection, she morphed her body into a Quasimodo shape, and wrangled the tenacious suit back down to the inner tube of five minutes ago. Composing herself, she unraveled the rubbery roll until the straps became visible and she could stretch the bra cups over the proper inhabitants. Snap. Success.
Feeling triumphant, she looked into the mirror.
Rashy, pasty, hairy in the wrong places.
And she had to pee.